


That Damn Bra, That Blue Shirt—The Cover Up Job

by crayonbreakygal



Category: Leverage
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Drama, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Sexual Situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 10:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15362109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/crayonbreakygal
Summary: They were caught, red-handed.  Each thought their cover had been blown.





	That Damn Bra, That Blue Shirt—The Cover Up Job

**Author's Note:**

> I keep getting plot bunnies. I should stop looking at gifs on Tumblr. The comedic timing on the scene in The Hot Potato Job in which Nate has to retrieve Sophie's bra before anyone else notices is hilarious. The fact that the bra was not supposed to be dropped though.... He was supposed to smoothly pick it up and pass it on to Sophie. The producers left it. The whole "this is not a relationship" thing was perfectly played out through the rest of the season. You know that's not what was going to happen. Neither one is good with the words. Also, I sort of have an obsession with that damn blue shirt. Sophie must too. I know I've written another piece pertaining to this scene. This is just another one. Enjoy!

That Damn Bra, That Blue Shirt—The Cover Up Job

Takes place fourth season, The Hot Potato Job

 

They were caught, red-handed.  Sophie hadn’t wanted to complicate matters, at all.  Telling Nate that they were just friends, close friends, friends that liked each other’s company, seemed to ally his fears a little.  She thought the term “friends with extras” was made for just this kind of situation.  They had never been closer, except when he didn’t see her way of thinking.

That bra, the one that Nate had stripped soon after tumbling into his apartment, glued to each other, was tossed across the railing of the stairs.  How had it gotten that far?  She couldn’t even remember it coming off, but she most certainly remembered what happened next.  Their clothes were literally everywhere. 

She had hoped he wasn’t disappointed since when they entered the lights were blazing.  She had slapped them off with her palm as the clothes came off.  Seeing her naked in not so flattering light was not going to happen, at least not yet.  He had not seen much in San Lorenzo, but she wondered if he even remembered what had happened that night a few months prior.

He hadn’t forgotten though what she liked. Maybe there was something he had remembered. 

“Not the neck,” she warned him as he attempted to suck on that particular spot that drove her wild. He understood and moved his mouth lower, much lower.

It was probably a good idea that she wasn’t wearing the bra at that moment.  Things were a bit, well, sore.  Pleasantly sore though.  The bitemark thank goodness, wasn’t visible. Bastard probably just wanted to mark her as his.

Dammit, this was not a relationship.  This was a friendship, a partnership, a…

She would not lose her cool.  He had agreed with her assessment.  So why was she feeling somewhat perplexed at his agreeing?  Had she wanted him to disagree, wanting something more from each other? He had nodded his approval, but she had seen the look in his eyes, like he wasn’t exactly on board with what she’d said.  He certainly could make her life very complicated with just a look and a nod.

Having spotted the bra, she directed him to hide it, so that the rest of the team would not suspect that something had gone on in the apartment the night before. 

How on earth had that man ever conned anyone? He looked foolish standing there, trying to be nonchalant.  He was fidgety, shifting from one foot to another while one of his hands tried to retrieve the evidence.  Then he dropped the damn thing.  If one looked closer at her attire, they’d surely spot that there was no bra strap.  Hardison would have no idea, Parker sometimes didn’t wear one herself, so she wouldn’t care, and Eliot would chuckle, knowing exactly what had gone on.

He knew.  Oh god, he knew.  Eliot most definitely knew what had gone on the night before. How could he not know?  He was Eliot Spencer, who had probably romanced and bedded more women than even she could count.  An errant bra tossed over a railing that led to a bedroom would be old hat for him.  And that fool who was standing right in front of it, blowing their cover? 

As much as she absolutely loved that blue shirt on him, it was distracting her from helping him get rid of the evidence. The stuttering by him was not helping also, but he got through the meeting without being too obvious.  To idiots.  Who was she kidding? 

Eliot winked at her as they got to the car. 

All day, as she was pulling the con, calling audibles, taking on a role she never believed she could pull off, all she could think about was that bra in her coat pocket, since she never had time to put it back on.  Her shirt was thicker, almost sweater-like material, so she hoped that no one would look too closely. That jacket would have to be her protection.

Living in the moment and all that. That’s what she’d told Nate that very morning.  She’d just have to teach Nate to lie a lot better about whatever they were doing. Damn, that blue shirt, she thought, as she pulled it off him once more.

 

His back was going to feel it by the end of the day.  They hadn’t made it up the stairs that second time, or was it third time?  Sophie was so willing to call it “friends with extras”, not a relationship. And he had to go and tell her that he didn’t want anything more from her.  Was she hurt by his statement?  No. She actually agreed with him.

Had he wanted her to protest?  Maybe.  It was always he pushed, she pulled, but she flipped the narrative, which in turn confused his addled brain even more.

They hadn’t been able to finish their conversation because the rest of the team showed up early.  When had they ever shown up early?  All three of them too.  Parker and her cereal, Hardison and his computers, Eliot.  He knew. Dammit, from his glance, he knew.  The nod was not perceptible to anyone else but Nate. Now Nate was on notice.  How had he known?

Sophie’s nod, eyes wide had him turning to look.  The bra hanging over the railing would be their undoing.  He had wanted to keep this quiet for as long as possible.  There would be questions, incriminations, pointing of fingers. They’d be angry, livid that he and Sophie had done things… Stop, he told himself.  There might be a way to salvage this. But not before he hid that bra from the others.

Nate had never been that smooth of an operator.  Standing in front of it, he luckily hid it from Parker just as she turned towards him.  Hardison was too busy with the meeting.  He could tell that he was blowing their cover, but what was he supposed to do?  It wasn’t like he was picking someone’s pocket.

He couldn’t even remember how the bra had gotten there in the first place.  One moment, it was admiring how lovely it looked on its owner, the next moment it was gone, his admiration rocketed up to a ten.  He hadn’t even cared that she had literally slapped the lights off once they entered the apartment, although it would have been nice to be able to see more of what he was doing.

He was exhausted as he lay directly onto the hard floor that morning, wondering how he’d gotten back down the stairs. He swore they’d made it up there at some point. Next time, if there was a next time, he’d insist on a soft bed.  His back and knees were sore as he rose from the floor, looking around for his shirt.

Then the conversation about just being friends. The whole thing had thrown him.  Then he’d dropped the damn bra on the ground.  Really smooth, Nate.  Tucking it in his back pocket, he managed to pass it off to her, clumsily yes, but the handoff was accomplished.  He grinned when she stuttered though, when his phone went off. He wasn’t much better, but that told him she was as much affected by what they did as he was. He’d keep that in mind.

All he could think about on the way to the client’s house was the fact that Sophie had never put that bra back on.  It was now housed in her jacket pocket. 

Then the con on the fly went sideways, Sophie called an audible, several audibles, wouldn’t help him make his way inside, and basically took over the con without his permission.

It had worked, completely.  He didn’t think it would, but she pulled it off with finesse.  The fact that she used Eliot’s voice and stance had seemed a little odd, but it had worked against the Verd Agra employees. 

As they returned to the bar to wrap up the con, the others split and went their separate ways. He really didn’t want to face Eliot right then, because dealing with either his complaining about Sophie using his persona or the fact that Nate was almost certain he knew about the bra, just wouldn’t be all that pleasant.  Besides, his mind had drifted yet again to the bra, which Sophie had never found the time to pull back on. 

He stuttered as she called him out on his inability to carry on a casual relationship. What did she know? He could do it.  They were friends, very close, personal friends.  He wondered if the mark he’d made was still there.  She’d turned the damn lights off, so he never got to see his handywork.

This time, at least she let him leave a light on so he could see what he’d done. She complained, he soothed, telling her he’d never do that again and proceeded to see if the inside of her thigh was just as soft as the curve of her breast.

“You son of a bitch,” she screamed, body bowing out as she pulled on his hair. He’d found another sensitive spot.

 


End file.
